


Endymion's War

by Anarchyinplasma



Series: Life and Times of a Risen [10]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26046598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anarchyinplasma/pseuds/Anarchyinplasma
Summary: Fireteam Endymion respond to an SOS
Series: Life and Times of a Risen [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/643955
Kudos: 1





	Endymion's War

**Author's Note:**

> This was just something fun to write, trying to get back into descriptive combat, I hope someone enjoys. :)

Arcturus doesn't know what time they get the call, just that it’s early. Endymion have just broken camp to start one of their last days running the full scan of the Canadian Wilderness when lines of distress signals cascade through their open comms line like a shrieking wildfire.  
“Code: Martyr, Open Frequency, Fireteam Open Cutlass requesting assistance!” The request plays in the breathless whisper of an Exo clearly under siege, the clicking chittering screeches of Fallen clearly audible in the background in the brief pauses between automatic weapons being emptied and the distinctive crunch of close quarters combat.

“They’re 30 minutes down the river at maximum speed.” Artemis says to the whole group. Tallulah nods at her ghost and gives the hand signal to move fast as they sprint to the ice-covered river.

As Arcturus’ feet find the thin ice he hears the twangs and muted pings of the thin sheets struggling with his weight. His sparrow forms on his left foot first, the transmat pushing him naturally into straddling the machine as the double superchargers spool up with a whine and he opens the throttle all the way to the firewall.

The ice speeds by under his feet as his HUD links with the rest of his fireteam and Tallulah’s voice comes crystal clear in his ear.  
“Arcturus, drop an anchor on them from a distance, Rae, herd them close. I’ll burn the whole mongrel horde.” A loose wireframe map with multiple dots shows up in front of his eyes, marking the known holding positions of their fellow fireteam in amongst a swarm of fallen signatures that distort the sensors with their numbers.

They speed down the glimmering river, outrunning the dawn rising behind them as the surface turns into a smooth carpet of glimmering solid flame in their wake; reflecting the light of the sun. The ice coming at them is mottled deep blues and purple, shot through with veins of aqua-tainted green as snow-flecked trees race by on the banks.

Arcturus breaks from their formation first, backing off his throttle and applying the brakes as he approaches a large grey slab of rock on the bank, perfect for a vantage point. Raven and Tallulah speed past him as he jumps off his sparrow and races to the top, finally getting a clear view of the battle unfolding hundreds of metres down what has become his firing range.

He feels the sun rising behind him, barely heating his back through his cloak and his armour and feels his veins grow cold. The Void fills him from his core, black ice spreading from his heart down every vein and artery. He takes a classical stance and summons his bow first in his right hand, full of sleek curves and straight edges, a glittering bowstring ready to be pulled taut. An arrow forms in his left-hand as a gravity well spins between his fingers. Spiralling into a double helix ribbon that winds together and fletches itself with wafer thin spirals of light to direct the air just so. Callahan removes his helmet for him, the cold air bites at his face and he judges the wind, taking a deep measured slow breath through his nose. He nocks the arrow and brings the bow up.

His light writhes tightly as he makes adjustments in the draw, the arrow lengthens as Arcturus feels the wind more clearly, and adjusts for a long, long shot. His attention doesn’t waver even as the Guardians below are battered by heavy ordnance. He doesn’t even shake in his perch. The arrow thins and he relaxes completely into the rhythm of his Void. Feels his heart beat slower and slower and his breathing even out to barely a whisper that doesn’t even steam up in the cold air.

He counts as his awareness extends, he feels Raven, his sibling in the void, pull on her own light. He brings the bow up slightly higher as the clear image in part of his mind’s eye lets him know through feeling the light alone that she’s pulled her duskblades from air and is culling Fallen, herding them closer into one big killbox. He holds the draw open and full, arms steady as the black ice in his veins freezes him solid until just the right moment. His focus narrows to a single point even as his awareness tells him what’s happening, the writhing, chittering centre of the confused mass of Fallen as they try to find their spectral killer. The moment comes and he pulls back just a little more, feeling the light of his bow dig into the gap between his thumb and forefinger as the string slips off his fingers and the arrow flies. His dusk bow rolls perfectly forwards off his hand with the transfer of momentum, and Arcturus pulls it back into his soul as his arrow impacts the centre of the fallen mass.

He feels the void hum hungrily as his arrow turns into a deadfall anchor on contact and leeches tethers into every one of the hundred or so Fallen it can reach. Then right as the sun is about to crawl into the battlefield, Tallulah leaps up and blankets the battlefield with enough power to kickstart a dying star.

A torrent of burning knives exit her fingers, pulled from the ether and coated in searing flame hot enough that it melts metal to molten slurry and scars bone with carbon charring with it’s mere heat-wash. Then another set, and another, then two more as she pushes off bare air for height and spins to put more power into her throws. The centre of the carpet of chittering Fallen turns to ashes, metal boils from weapons and the plastic from the weapon housings hisses and vaporises on exposure. The outer wave melts and screams in pain as polycarbonate helms turn to slurry and fuse to exoskeletons and flesh sloughs off bones, those on the outskirts, lucky enough to escape the star-scorching heat of Tallulah’s focused barrage; die in agony as Arcturus’ void anchor chains the pain and the damage from their companions into them. The nearby portion of the river becomes water again, unfrozen from the sheer heat-wash as needles are blasted off pine trees and dry wood catches alight, endless molten fragments drifting in the air like burning snow.

Arcturus hops down from his perch and walks in to meet them, watching Tallulah glowing with excess energy as she clamps down on her light and snuffs out her excess fires with a deep centering breath.  
“SOS answered.” Raven quips easily as she moves up out of the shadows towards their fellow fireteam. Arcturus stifles a laugh at the look of open awe on the Hunter of Open Cutlass as the Exo Warlock rubs carbon residue from her helmet.  
“You Endymion?” The Hunter asks, sounding far too awed for Arcturus to let his guard down, sometimes he forgets how many new guardians have studied past operations they’ve been a part of.  
“That’s us,” Raven answers, “no autographs.”  
“You going to be okay out here now?” Tallulah asks, hot air still shimmering around her as the excess of using her light so much burns off. The Titan of Open Cutlass nods, thankfully more business minded than his associates.  
“Thanks for the assist.”  
“Can’t ignore an SOS.” Raven shrugs and subtly steps between Open Cutlass and the other two members of Endymion, shielding her fireteam from questions as they try to walk away from any potential as quickly and cleanly as possible.

Thankfully they manage, and they speed off down the river back to their assignment, leaving nothing but a charred and blasted heath full of ash in their wake.


End file.
